


Following Your Footsteps

by The_Busy_Beee



Category: DOUBLE DECKER! ダグ&キリル | Double Decker! Doug & Kirill (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Related, Feels, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Pre-Canon, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, World Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-16 16:08:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29703126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Busy_Beee/pseuds/The_Busy_Beee
Summary: Derick has waited his whole life to meet his soulmate... but it's time for him to give up and move on.
Relationships: Derick Ross/Valery Vrubel
Kudos: 4





	Following Your Footsteps

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again~
> 
> As I said before, these were originally supposed to be for a fanzine, but with all the delays over the last year, I'm not sure if the Zine is ever going to be produced, and I haven't had any updates in quite a while.  
> (If the Zine is still expected to be produced and my posting these causes problems in any way, I apologize! Just let me know!)
> 
> This was actually one of my absolute FAVORITES to write, and I hope you guys love it just as much as I did writing it.

"You can't just retire, Derick," Doug spins idly in his desk chair as he watches Derick pack up his photos and knick knacks from his desk. 

"I can, and I am," Derick waves a stapler at him. "You see this? This is me packing up and retiring."

"What are you even gonna do?" Deana asks, frown marring her face and arms crossed. "You're only thirty five!" Derick gives a half shrug, still being careful of his left shoulder.

"Who knows. Maybe I'll start a bar, maybe I'll become a bus driver. Maybe I'll take up gambling and make a fortune."

"You mean lose a fortune," Max teases, setting the coffee carafe back on the base. "Seriously though, Derick. Are you sure about this? The doctor said you would heal up just fine."

"I will, yeah, but," he sighs and runs a hand through his hair. Derick looks at his fellow detectives, all staring back at him with varying expressions of concern, and he can't help but smile. He knows they're only looking out for him, but, "That was a close call. A  _ really _ close call. When I was laying there, bleeding out, all I could think about was what I didn't get to do in life. What I didn't get to see, where I didn't get to go. I've been in this town my whole life… I was born here, I made a life for myself here… but I don't know if I'm ready to die here. You know what I mean..?"

"So you want to travel the world?" Yuri asks, helpfully setting a stack of papers into his cardboard box. Derick laughs, not unkindly, and sets his final picture frame into the box. 

"Maybe not the whole world, but I'd like to see some of it." He replies. Yuri's smile is still cheerful when she nods.

"I understand. I hope you find whatever it is you're looking for, be it fun and adventure, or a new purpose."

"I guess all that's left then," Doug says, suddenly only a couple feet away, "is to say goodbye." He holds his hand out, a soft expression on his face, and Derick suddenly feels emotional. He tugs Doug forward by the arm into a big bear hug. "Oof-!"

"It's not goodbye," Derick promises with a sniff, "just a "see you later"."

"Sure, sure," Doug huffs a laugh as he wraps his arms around the bigger man. Derick will miss Doug- will miss all of them, really, but this is what he needs to do. 

He's going on an adventure.

\---

Derick's going to find his soulmate.

He hasn't told anyone, especially not anyone at the office because he just  _ knows _ what Deana would have to say, but he's not just walking into this blindly, okay??

His soulmate is very artistic. They're also very forgetful. How does he know this if he's never met them, you ask?

Because Derick's soulmate has been leaving notes all over himself since they were young. And not even just the little stuff- Derick has seen Doug occasionally scribble small notes about cases and such on his hands or arms, but Derick's soulmate sometimes writes whole paragraphs! One time, his thigh wouldn't stop tingling and itching, and when he was finally able to look at it, he found a whole recipe for strawberry eclairs! Who writes whole recipes on their body??

On a side note, those eclairs were delicious. 

The point is, Derick has had a lot of information to go on over the years. 

He was worried at first, because when he was six and his mother first explained soul mates to him, he had never had another person's writing on his skin before. And no matter how he tried, no one ever replied to his own writing. 

While he was in class at age seven, his left forearm started feeling itchy and tingly. When he pushed the sleeve of his shirt up, he found the day's date written in neat blue writing, followed by a cute little heart at the end. 

Derick had been  _ ecstatic. _

He had been worried that maybe he didn't have a soulmate, even though his mother had  _ assured _ him that everyone had one. He was so excited he rushed up to the teacher as soon as class was over and showed her. The teacher, however, wasn't as excited as he was. She had smiled and said "My! Isn't that wonderful!" but her smile didn't look quite right.

Derick found out why when he came home and his mom had the same smile on her face. 

"Honey, we should talk about your soulmate."

She sat him down with a plate of cookies and a glass of milk, and it made Derick nervous, because he wasn't supposed to have cookies before dinner, but if Mama said so…

"Derick, Honey," she paused, frowned, and tried again, "The numbers that showed up on your arm today… your soulmate didn't write those, their parents did." Derick frowned. "It's customary in some areas of the world, and even in certain religions, to write your child's birthday on their arm when they're born."

"Why would they do that?" Derick asked, still frowning.

"It's kind of like a clue," Derick's mother smiled. "It's frowned upon to write their name, but now you know what your soulmate's birthday is, and it'll make it just a  _ little _ bit easier to find them." She reached past the untouched plate of cookies to take Derick's hand.

"So then… my soulmate was born today..?" The day's date is still neatly scrawled across his left forearm, looking very at home.

"They were," his mother confirmed. "Now honey," she drew his attention back to her, "I know you'll probably want to talk to and meet your soulmate as soon as possible, but it's going to be quite a while before you two can communicate."

"I know, mom. They're just a baby. They won't know how to write until they're like six-"

"Even then, Der, I need you to be patient." She fixed him with a pleading stare, "You'll understand it as you get older, I promise, but for now…" she paused. She inhaled deeply and then smiled that slightly off smile from before, "I want you to be careful of writing on your skin, okay? Remember- it's not just your body anymore."

It seemed odd to Derick at the time.

Everyone was so excited about writing on their skin, sending notes to their soulmates and having them send them back- it was fun! Derick could kind of understand why he shouldn't though; if his soulmate was still a baby, it might hurt them when he writes on himself. It did feel kind of itchy and tingly when the blue birthday appeared on his skin.

When he was fifteen, he realized exactly why his mother wanted him to be careful about writing to his soulmate.

_ "I heard Jennie's soulmate is some grade school kid- can you believe it?!" _

_ "She's like a cradle robber!" _

It was just hushed gossip in the halls, but it had made the hair on the back of Derick's neck prickle. "Jennie" was fifteen, a freshman, and her soulmate was eleven. It's only a four year gap; they were still kids, on opposites sides of the country, in fact, and neither were even interested in relationships yet-

But that didn't stop people from gossiping.

Jennie transferred schools and Derick was even more nervous about people finding out just how big of an age gap he and his own soulmate shared.

So even after his soulmate began writing on themselves- more than just harmless doodles and scribbles like all kids make, but real messages, with the intent for conversation, Derick refused to write back. Even when his soulmate was eight and learning cursive; when his soulmate was ten and learning fractions; when his soulmate was twelve and began drawing in earnest; when his soulmate was fourteen and was desperate for contact- was desperate to know someone existed- Derick still never replied.

It hurt- god, did it hurt. Especially when the notes changed from "I hope you see this! We had chemistry today!" to "Essay due tomorrow."

His soulmate had given up hope, and instead of trying to get Derick to write back, they simply used their skin as a notepad- or a sketch pad, just before they turned fifteen. 

Derick had messed around with a few people in college, but he was still a hopeless romantic- he always had been. His parents, and even his grandparents, had been soulmates. His older sister found her soulmate her first year in high school and got married right after graduation. 

Derick couldn't help but want that too.

He thinks maybe, after his soulmate's seventeenth birthday, it would be okay to start writing to them. Maybe he could explain the situation, and they would understand that he was just looking out for them-

But then writing shows up shortly after their sixteenth birthday that definitely isn't his soulmate's- and Derick realizes that not everyone feels the same way about soul mates as he does.

And that's okay. 

So he had taken the job at Seven-O Detective Agency and thrown himself into work and tried to ignore the random phone numbers that sometimes appeared on his skin, along with random names or locations. He had no rights to his soulmate at this point anyways.

But it didn't stop him from squirreling away any little bit of information he got from his soulmate. Books the person had read, movies and bands, places they had been, foods they liked. 

Derick now has a journal dedicated to facts and questions about his soulmate and their life. Some people might think it's creepy, but Derick likes to think of it as being invested in his soulmate.

But now, Derick is thirty-five, and he has to admit to himself that he's lonely. He'd like to settle down with someone, his soulmate ideally, but his soulmate is already almost 29. Derick can't just waltz into his life now, after all these years, and expect things to work out like a fairy tale. He knows that.

But what he  _ can _ do is find closure and move on.

He can explore the world, see the places his soulmate sketched and took notes of on their body, and then let them go. 

Starting today.

His bags are packed and his plane tickets already arranged; he never dreamed he'd be using the payout from his parents' life insurance for a trip around the world, but here he is, loading the last of his few belongings into a storage unit near Doug's apartment complex. He's already broken his lease and moved all he had out; it's not like he had a lot to begin with though. 

He hasn't told Doug yet, but he's put the other man down on his contact list in case of problems with the unit. He'll message him before he boards the plane, that way Doug doesn't have time to try and talk him out of it. He slams the metal door shut with a clang and inhales deeply, butterflies filling his chest and a smile spreading over his face.

"It's the first day of the rest of your life, Derick."

\---

"He's what?!" Deana stands up so fast her chair is sent rolling away from her desk. Doug sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose.

"He said-"

"I heard you the first time!" She snaps, fingers flying over her phone at lightspeed. She puts the phone up to her ear, only to be met with an automated voice saying  _ "The person you are trying to reach is unavailable at this time-" _ "That asshole turned his phone off!"

"He's boarding a plane, Deana," Doug deadpans, "of course he turned his phone off."

"What is he thinking?!" She huffs as she drops her cell phone back into the desk drawer. Doug shrugs, still staring at his phone.

"Who knows."

\---

Valery startles awake when he hears a door slam, but after a quick look around his apartment, he exhales heavily in frustration and flops back down against his lumpy mattress. The walls in this apartment complex are so  _ thin _ that everything sounds like it's right in your living room. You'd think after living there for a year Valery would have been used to it, but he still startles awake every time Mr. Beni next door comes home late.

After a quick glance at the clock on his nightstand, he's curling back up in the blankets and nuzzling against the cool edge of the pillow. He still has almost six more hours he can sleep before work and he is  _ absolutely _ going to make use of them. Valery's eyelids are heavy as he blinks at the hastily scribbled shopping list on his left forearm.

Using his body as a notepad is probably a bad habit, but he's been doing it since he was a kid, and it just feels too late to stop now. When he was younger, even before finding out about soulmates, he would draw pictures all over himself, and learning that his soulmate could see those pictures only made him want to draw them more. When he learned to write, he used to practice on his body, hoping his soulmate would see- hoping his soulmate would be proud of him.

Yeah, he was forgetful, but he mostly liked writing out what he needed to do on his body because he hoped it would spur his soulmate into responding. He wanted his soulmate to know everything about him, and he wanted to know everything about them… but Valery finally understood when he became a teenager that there wasn't anyone else. Not for him, anyways. No one had ever responded to him; he didn't have a soulmate.

So then, it  _ really _ didn't matter what he did to his skin. 

He uses his body as a sketch pad, a notepad- whatever he needs at the time. No one will see it except him anyways. He used to wonder sometimes, after a few drinks, if maybe his soulmate was there but couldn't respond for some reason, or wouldn't, maybe? He used to wonder if they ever got jealous of the phone numbers that sometimes appeared on them, or if they even cared. I mean, Valery never called the numbers, or spent more than just a brief evening with anyone; he can't risk letting someone get too close to him, but his soulmate wouldn't have known that.

Valery's heavy eyelids finally droop shut, and he can feel himself slipping into that state just before sleep. His body feels weightless, his thoughts endless yet fleeting, and here, in this dream state, he can imagine countless scenarios in which he meets his perfect soulmate. In this in between, he's not alone, and his soulmate is always there, holding out a hand, waiting for Valery. Every night, it's something new, but familiar-

And then the alarm goes off, and Valery pretends that it doesn't hurt to wake up alone.

\---

Derick starts his trip in Egypt, the same country his soulmate began in. 

He doesn't know the exact path his soulmate traveled, because all he has is the small notes and lists they've written on themselves, or pictures of messily sketched landscapes and skylines that appeared on his thighs and forearms. He couldn't identify many of the places, but that doesn't deter him. Right now, he's standing on the same soil his soulmate once stood on so many years ago, and the thought makes him giddy. 

Alexandria was written on his forearm with a tiny asterisk beside it, so Derick assumes it was somewhere they really wanted to visit. The ocean is  _ gorgeous, _ and the history is rich; he can definitely see why there are so many tourists milling around. He rides camels and goes on educational, guided tours and takes  _ tons _ of photos. Seeing the pyramids is one of the best parts of his trip, though, because when he gets in just the right spot, he knows he's seeing the exact same scene his soulmate sketched out on his right thigh so long ago.

He must have done it sitting on this same bench, Derick thinks, and that makes him more than a little emotional.

He sends Doug a video of himself atop a camel, and mails postcards and souvenirs from gift shops, and by the time it's time for his flight to Greece, he's more than a little ashamed to say he's blown almost all the money he had set aside for the  _ entire _ trip.

Derick knows better than to think that his pension and his share of his parent's life insurance will support him for very long without being careful of his spending, so instead of going around the world like a "high class tourist", he decides to be extra careful with his expenses. He walks where he can, and hitchhikes to places further away. He buys a sleeping bag and camps under the stars when the weather is nice, and when it's not, he manages to find a cheap inn to stay in. 

He backpacks his way through Greece, spending more time looking at the scenery and interacting with the locals this time around. He meets a group of local mountain climbers and hikers who happily allow him to camp and climb with him. Watching the sunrise in Vikos Gorge is worth every misstep on the trail and cut on the palm of his hands. He doesn't know if his soulmate ever saw this view, but he hopes they had as much fun in Greece as he has. 

He finally gets to see the Monasteries of Meteora in person, and they're just as amazing in color as they were in black ink. He eats more olives and fish in the weeks he's in Greece than he thinks he's ever had in his whole life, but oddly enough, the food never gets boring. 

The ferry from Greece to Italy takes seven hours. In those seven hours, Derick discovers that he has a weak stomach and seasickness is  _ very real. _ He spends most of the ride beneath deck, trying not to lose his lunch, but he did manage to take one good photo of the waves before he had to take some medicine and rest.

Italy quickly became Derick's favorite place so far. The food is amazing, from the pizza to the pastries and fruity gelato and everything in between. There's no shortage of culture in Italy either, and there's something new to see everywhere he goes. One night, a storm rolls in, and he can't find any vacancies in the nearby inns, so a sweet, older Italian couple allow him to stay in their attic for the night. One night ends up being a week while he helps the men do some remodeling, and Derick thinks for a bit that it wouldn't be so bad to settle down here. 

But then his soulmate's grocery list appears on his forearm one night, while Derick is stargazing, and Derick laughs at the hastily scrawled words. Hadn't they  _ just _ bought cream cheese last week? 

Emil and Stefan drive him to the border of Austria after nine days, and send him off with bags full of homemade pastries and an old, well loved blanket that Stefan's grandma had knitted long ago because Emil had been worried about the chilly nights. He promises to send postcards and call them if he ever needs anything, and it feels like he's just acquired a new set of grandparents.

He's barely known them a week but he decides then that he loves the old men.

The architecture in Austria is some of the most beautiful Derick has ever seen. That combined with the sprawling green hills and picturesque mountains? Derick could take pictures for  _ days. _

And then he ends up with a cold.

He caves in and books a hotel room in Sellrain for a few days. 

"Of course you caught a cold!" Derick winces and pulls the phone away from his ear as Deana shouts, "You've been walking around in the elements for two months now; it's a miracle you made it this long!" Derick huffs a laugh.

"I didn't know you were so worried about me," he teases. The woman scoffs and Derick can just imagine her narrow eyed glare, her lip pulled up in distaste, "I'll be fine after a couple days of rest. I'm so close to making it through everything on my list, I can't just give in now."

"What's left on your list?" Max sounds closer to the phone now, "Maybe you could come home for a while, rest and recover, and then travel again later? I know you wanted to see the world, but you don't have to do it all at once."

"I know I don't have to," Derick sighs softly and reclines against the pillows behind him, "but I think it'll be better in the long run to get as much exploring done as I can while I can afford to, both financially and physically."

"Just don't push yourself too hard, Derick," Doug finally speaks. Derick smiles.

"I won't."

\---

"Are you sure this is what you want to do?" Amelia asks again as she tucks the papers in her hands into the desk drawer, "You've been such a big help at the clinic, and the patients all love you." Valery smiles softly and nods as he adjusts the shoulder strap on his bag.

"I'm sure. I never actually intended to stay this long," he confides, "but everyone here has been so good to me. I'm going to miss you all so much." It's weird; he's used the same line dozens of times over the years, he's left more jobs and homes than he can count, but it never feels like a lie. He always does end up missing the people he leaves behind.

"You're welcome back any time, Hon," Freida assures him. "My doors will always be open for you." The other nurses swarm him in a group hug, and Valery smiles and laughs as he returns their hugs.

And then he's making his way through the streets of France once more, heading North this time, to find somewhere new to call home. He's been in France a few months now, longer than just about anywhere else he's stayed, and he really enjoys it. The sights and sounds- not so much the smells, honestly, but if you stay away from the over passes and tunnels, it's not so bad.

He mentally ticks off the jobs he's taken in the past few months, trying to think of something he hasn't done recently. When he first arrived, he worked at a flower shop before becoming a nurse at a small clinic in need of extra hands. Before France, he had been a math tutor, a pastry chef, a carpenter's assistant, and a maid, to name a few. Valery is no stranger to hard work- as long as they don't ask too many questions about his past.

He stops for lunch at a bustling cafe and gets a sandwich and a cup of coffee to go. As he's wandering the streets, sipping his coffee, he hums softly to himself. 

He did enjoy being a patissier in Italy… maybe he could do that again..?

\---

France is the last stop on Derick's list.

His soulmate hadn't written about any new countries since visiting France, so either they were still here or they just didn't make a note of it on their body. Derick is willing to bet on the former, though, because his soulmate writes just about  _ everything _ on their body. Just yesterday they had written "buy mangoes" on their arm, only to draw a line through it that evening and write "mangoes are gross" underneath it. 

It was confusing, but it had made Derick laugh.

His soulmate always does silly things like that.

Marseille is just a bit too far for Derick to make it to, but Lyon and its many bars and restaurants offer plenty of distractions and entertainment. The Gothic Cathedral in Strasbourg has a working astrological clock that he's sure Apple would love, so he makes sure to take plenty of pictures of it, and the surrounding museums and cafes.

France is beautiful, no doubt, but nothing compares to the beauty he finds behind the counter of the small pastry shop he visits in Paris. 

"Welcome!" The beauty calls, smile bright and sunshiny, as they help another customer. The small shop is packed, and with how delicious the shop smells, he can definitely understand why. His eyes roam over the glass cases of confections, trying not to stare, but like a magnet, his gaze is drawn back to the cheerful smile and bright blue eyes behind the counter every time. They look up from boxing pastries and Derick freezes as their eyes meet. Their smile softens, and this one feels more real- not like the bright, customer service smile they've been wearing, and Derick's heart skips a beat.

The line is long but the three people behind the counter keep things moving pretty quickly. When Derick makes it to the front of the line, he can finally read "Milan" on the small pink name tag they're wearing. "Good morning!" they don't even seem out of breath even though Derick has been watching them zoom around the small space for the last few minutes, "What can I get for you today, Sir?"

Derick opens his mouth, but pauses, panics-

He was so distracted by watching them work, he hadn't even paid attention to the sweets. He has no idea what to ask for- the menu is written in French, the sweets are all foreign-

"Anything you recommend." He blurts out. Milan nods, stepping to the side and looking into the glass cabinets.

"In that case, I would recommend the Caramel Tart. It's very rich, and full of caramel," Milan points at the small tarts, "or maybe the Eclairs? Our chef has been testing new flavors, so today we present matcha and mango." They point to a few long pastries covered with green icing. "The Mont Blanc are pretty popular, but the taste can be a little bold if it's your first taste of chestnut. Our rainbow Macarons are another popular choice, and we currently have six flavors to choose from. My personal favorite though," Milan continues, sliding down to the far end of the counter, "would have to be the Madeleines. They're not as fancy as most of the others, but for me, the taste is incomparable." 

Milan is smiling when they come back to the register, "Did any of those sound good?"

Derick only remembers the shape of Milan's lips and the soft sparkle in their eyes as they talked about each pastry, but he can't keep holding up the line like this.

"One of everything, please."

\---

"You loser!" Deana cackles. Derick sighs sadly as he slides the pink box filled with pastries inside his backpack.

"I thought it was sweet," Max assures him, but Derick can hear her muffled laughter. 

"Are the pastries at least good?" Of course Doug would care about the pastries more than him.

He doesn't know why he bothered calling them in the first place.

\---

Derick goes back the next day, an hour earlier, hoping to beat the rush, and is disappointed to find the same amount of people. But, he's not unprepared this time! He orders a box of Macarons from Emilia, since Milan is nowhere to be seen, and moves to the end of the counter to wait. Just before he leaves, Milan comes through the double doors that must lead to the kitchen, lilac hair pulled up into a neat little bun. They see Derick and smile, offering a small wave. Derick returns the smile and gives a shy wave, nearly tripping over his own feet as he tries to walk out without looking away from her. Milan laughs quietly, and Derick feels his cheeks heating up, so he quickly hurries out the glass doors.

It didn't quite go according to plan, but he managed to make Milan laugh, so Derick counts it as a win.

The third day, he manages to have a small conversation with Milan as they pack Derick's Mille-Feuilles into the small pink pastry box.

"Have you worked here long?" He asks, trying for casual. Milan smiles, still carefully handling the pastries.

"I haven't. I've only been in Paris for a couple weeks, if you can believe it." Their hands are quick but practiced as they close the box and pull out the customary white ribbon. "I assume you're new in town as well?"

"Am I that obvious?" Derick laughs, a little sheepish. Milan's laugh isn't much more than a huff of air.

"It's not always bad to be obvious." They slide the box across the counter and Derick carefully takes the small pink box, being careful not to mess up the silky white ribbon around it.

"Thank you for your patronage," it's the same words that Milan used on the first day, but they seem warmer this time.

The next day, he waits until lunch to visit the shop and is rewarded with a mostly empty store and Milan at the register. He's so happy he could cheer, but he remains composed as he strolls up to the counter. Calm, cool-

He trips over his own two feet and stumbles forward before catching himself on the edge of the counter. 

He's never been more glad that he's across the world from his Seven-O colleagues; Deana would never let him hear the end of this. He quickly rights himself and clears his throat, pretending he isn't dying from embarrassment inside. Milan has one hand covering their mouth, and Derick just knows they're trying not to laugh. He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly.

"It looks like I've fallen for you," he laughs. And then Milan is laughing, and Derick is grinning, because that's the most beautiful smile he's ever seen.

"That was so corny," Milan laughs, wiping away a stray tear. "I bet you say that to everyone you trip in front of."

"Not everyone," Derick assures, "just the really cute patissiers." Milan's smile widens.

"I see. So that's why you've spent a small fortune on sweets here the last couple days?"

"It… might be," Derick admits with another sheepish laugh. Milan laughs softly as well. "I was wondering, if it wouldn't be too forward," he shifts his weight from one foot to the other and tucks his hands into his pockets, "Since we're both new to Paris, maybe we could explore the town… together?"

"Oh, I don't know if I-"

"Say yes, dummy!" Someone hisses and Derick jolts. Milan turns to glare at the person peeking out of the kitchen.

"Mary-"

"You've been doing nothing but working since you got here!" Mary cries, still halfway hiding behind the kitchen door, "You've lived in France nearly a year but have never even seen the Eiffel Tower and that's just sad!" Milan sighs

"I work because I'm scheduled-"

"Then consider yourself unscheduled!" She nods her head decisively, "As your boss, you hereby have tomorrow off." Milan huffs a laugh and folds their arms over their chest.

"I don't think that's how that works."

"That's exactly how it works." Mary nods once more. "So, I don't want to see you in the shop tomorrow at all. If I do, I'll be revoking your patisserie privileges." Mary pops back into the kitchen, white door swinging shut behind her, and Milan turns back to face Derick with a sigh.

"I'm sorry," Derick begins, "should I… have not done that? I really hope I didn't get you into any trouble-"

"No, no, of course not," Milan hurries to assure him, "Mary is… eccentric. By patisserie privileges, she just means she won't allow me to taste test her new creations." Milan laughs softly and Derick smiles, relieved.

"Oh good. I was worried for a minute there!" Milan smiles.

"Well… it looks like my schedule has just been cleared for tomorrow, if you're not busy?"

Derick grins, feeling excitement bubbling inside him. "Tomorrow sounds perfect."

\---

Valery sighs and tosses the guidebook in his lap onto the coffee table.

Really, why did Mary have to  _ do _ that? 

What kind of boss just gives people the day off? And then tells them to go play tourist?? Ugh.

It's not that he doesn't appreciate the day off, or that he doesn't want to go out with the man who keeps buying dozens of pastries a day just so he can see Valery- it's the opposite.

And he's never had that happen before.

Since being on Earth, Valery has always been conscious of the fact that his brother, and to an extent, Valery as well, are wanted beings. Valery can't afford to get too close to anyone and risk blowing their cover.

That's why he hid himself as Milla for so long. That's why he left Kirill with their "grandfather" nearly nine years ago. It's why, even when men and women alike flirted with him, invited him out, he turned them down and kept to himself. He would do anything to keep Kirill safe.

But Derick…

Derick's smile gives him butterflies in his stomach. Derick's twice his size, but he's so shy and it's the cutest thing Valery has ever seen, honestly. He wants to let his guard down a little; he wants to eat lunch with him, and show him everything in the tour guides. He wants to let himself have fun.

And that's more than a little scary.

\---

"Sorry I'm late!" Derick calls, jogging towards Valery. "I got turned around and had to ask for directions, and I only know a handful of French!" The man explains, trying to catch his breath. Valery laughs softly.

"It's alright, I was a few minutes late getting here too," that's a lie. He was here fifteen minutes early. "I looked up a few places last night and made a little list," Valery holds up the small notebook in his hands. "It's not much, but I found a few places that might be fun to visit-" he's such a liar, but he _absolutely_ _can't_ tell Derick that he stayed up until two am trying to find the best places to visit.

"That sounds great!" Derick agrees readily, clapping his hands together, "Anywhere you want to go! I'm yours for the day!"

Valery's smile widens when Derick offers him his arm. 

_ "His." _ Valery kind of liked the sound of that.

\---

They visit museums and galleries, and have an early lunch in the Eiffel Tower. The Notre Dame Cathedral is even more stunning in person, but Derick much prefers Milan's awed expression to any of the landmarks they've seen today. They had seemed tense when they started out, even a little nervous, but by afternoon, they had completely lost themself in having fun. 

Milan's eyes sparkle just a little bit brighter after every stop, and by the time evening comes around, Derick can't even recall what they did the last four hours or so; he's been so distracted by watching Milan enjoy themself, he's barely been paying attention to the scenery. Thankfully, Milan hasn't seemed to notice how enamored he is.

When he suggests the river boat cruise after dinner, he doesn't even consider the romance factor. He just wants to spend a little bit more time with Milan. "It's an hour long, but I think it'll be fun!" Derick grins, walking backwards towards the boat. Milan rolls their eyes playfully.

"Derick, we have to go home at some point today."

"Do we though?" Derick stops, and Milan pauses, eyes flitting over his face. "We could go anywhere, do anything… there's a whole world out there that we've never seen!" He throws his arms out wide, smile widening. Milan's smile is soft and a little sad.

"One boat ride. And then I really do need to get home."

\---

"So what brought you to France?" Valery asks, once they're on their way. Derick hums, stretching his arms above his head.

"My soulmate is in France somewhere." 

Valery stiffens. "Oh."

"Not like that," Derick laughs, dispelling the tension threatening to settle over them. "I don't know who they are, personally. I've uh… never actually talked to them. There's complications and things, so I just…" he sighs, "I'm giving them up. They're a very well traveled person, and I'm sure they've met someone that they care for in all their exploring. I went on this trip to clear my mind; to help me take my mind off them.

"Did it help?" Valery asks after a moment of silence. 

"Not really," Derick laughs, making Valery huff a laugh of his own. "I couldn't stop thinking about them. Like, what if they've been here before? What if I'm seeing the same scenes they have? What if I've passed them on the street and never known it?" Valery nods in understanding. "But… The last few days, I haven't done that as much."

Derick's smile is sheepish and it makes Valery's heart skip a beat. The light from the setting sun reflecting off the river is giving Derick's skin a pinkish glow, and Valery feels butterflies fluttering in his stomach. He pulls his jacket closer around himself, trying to block out the chilly winter breeze.

"I'll be going home in a couple days," Derick continues, watching the setting sun. "I can't keep chasing after empty dreams; I gotta get back to living."

"You could… you could stay here, in France." Valery says quietly, staring at the waves the boat is making. He can't bring himself to look at Derick. "It's… it's a pretty nice country. There's always something new to see. The coast is beautiful, if you haven't seen it yet."

He has no idea what he's doing, what he's saying. He really shouldn't be trying to convince this man that he's just met to stick around. With how much he's already shaken Valery up, Valery is certain that nothing good can come from this. 

But when he looks up and finds Derick already watching him with that soft look, Valery can't help but want to stay near him. 

"If I had heard your laugh before I booked my ticket home, I probably would have."

\---

Derick is at the shop bright and early the next morning, prepared to try the newest eclair flavors. 

"You know, you don't have to buy anything to visit me," Valery laughs softly as he neatly lines the eclairs in the pink box.

"But it would look bad if I didn't, wouldn't it?" He winks. Valery gives him a discount and ignores the cocky looks Mary shoots him the rest of the day after the older man sits at one of the small metal tables lining the wall and eats the eclairs there instead of taking the box to go like he normally would.

He stays there for hours, not bothering anyone, just making notes in a few journals and taking care of what looks like paperwork.

When Valery takes his lunch, he shyly sits down across from Derick, and the older man smiles, quickly packing away his work to give Valery his full attention. 

And when his shift is over, Derick escorts him halfway home, until the fork in the road that leads them to separate places. Valery smiles the rest of his walk home.

When Derick arrives the next morning, though, his smile seems a bit strained.

"Is everything alright?" Valery asks, eyebrows drawn together in a concerned frown. Derick nods quickly, obviously trying not to make Valery worry.

"It's no big deal," he assures, quickly paying for his treats and moving out of the busy line. When the morning rush finally slows, Valery takes his break and goes to sit across from Derick. The man startles at the sound of the metal chair scraping across the tile floor, having been completely zoned out and staring out the window beside him, but he smiles when he sees Valery.

"I'm leaving tonight." He begins quietly, and Valery's heart sinks. "My flight was supposed to be tomorrow, but with the storm moving in, if I don't take the earlier flight, I'm not sure when I'll be able to get another."

So what, Valery wants to say. What's the hurry to leave? Why not just wait until after the snow storm? Why not just  _ stay..? _

But he doesn't say any of that.

"I'll walk you to the airport," he murmurs instead.

\---

Derick's knuckles brush over the edge of the box in his pocket again as he waits for Milan to finish clocking out. His stomach is in knots and his heart feels a little heavy.

He doesn't want to leave things this way, but…

"Derick?" He looks up and finds Milan coming closer, pulling their scarf tighter, "Everything alright?" Derick takes his hand out of his pocket and holds it out, palm up. Milan accepts the offer immediately, lacing their fingers together, and Derick's chest immediately feels warm, if a little tight. He smiles.

"Everything's fine." 

They don't say much on the way to the airport, other than some light small talk. Derick can see the lights of the huge airport shining brightly like a beacon in the night, and he stops, making Milan pause as well.

"Derick?"

"You mentioned the other night," Derick can't look Milan in the eye as he tucks his hands into his pocket and fishes out the small box, "that your birthday was this month… but since I'm not going to be here, I wanted to give you something now..."

He pulls out the small black box and hears Milan inhale sharply. Derick doesn't think he's imagining the slight tremble he feels when chilled fingers take the box from his hand and open it.

"Oh," Milan says softly, "they're so pretty."

The earrings aren't much, Derick knows. They're just simple blue studs, nothing quite as fancy as the dangly gold and silver pieces he's seen Milan wear, but when he saw them in the shop, the only thing he could think about was how pretty they would look on Milan's soft pale earlobes.

"Thank you, Derick," he finally looks at Milan, and they're smiling, small black box cradled against their chest. "I love them."

Derick feels nine thousand different emotions welling up inside him, words on the tip of his tongue like "Tell me not to leave," or "Come with me," and "I don't want to be apart from you," but he pushes it all aside. He smiles and takes Milan's hand.

They walk the rest of the way to the airport…

And he boards the plane to Lisvalleta alone.

\---

Valery frowns when he pulls his cell phone out and finds a missed call from Mary. He sighs, scrubs a hand over his face, and contemplates not calling her back. 

He doesn't really want to deal with the older woman questioning why he didn't stop Derick from leaving when he's "so clearly smitten with him". But, Mary  _ is _ his boss, and it  _ could _ be something important, so he stops to rest on a park bench as he calls her back. She answers within the first few rings.

"Derick hasn't left yet, has he??" Are her first words. Valery frowns at the sidewalk, regretting his decision to call her back.

"He has," he huffs. "I'm on my way back from the airport right now."

"Oh no!" Mary whines, and Valery's frown deepens, "He left his notebook on one of the tables here. I really hope it wasn't anything important..."

Valery's curiosity is piqued. "I'm on my way."

\---

Mary gives him the notebook and a hug, and thankfully doesn't pester him about letting Derick go. 

The notebook is fairly thick, with paperclips and bookmarks, and Valery worries that maybe it  _ is _ something important- maybe he should take a taxi to the airport and try and catch the older man.

But when he opens the notebook to the first page, his breath catches.

He closes the book and doesn't open it until he gets home.

This is a journal about Derick's soulmate.

Valery stares at the closed book on his coffee table, lips pursed. 

He wants to read it so  _ bad, _ but he feels a little guilty. It feels like he shouldn't be reading something so private. Reading Derick's notes on his soulmate would absolutely be an invasion of privacy.

He takes a big drink of his wine and sets the glass down before pulling the book closer. "If it was really that important, he wouldn't have forgotten it," Valery mumbles under his breath.

He begins flipping through the pages, simply skimming over them, until something seems… odd. He frowns and reads closer- the dates mentioned, the tidbits of information… it all sounds familiar…

But when he finally turns to a page with a paperclip and finds the photos of Derick's soulmate's drawings on his skin, his heart stops. 

He traces trembling fingers over the glossy picture, over the drawing of the pyramids on Derick's forearm…

Those are his drawings…

That's his handwriting.

He swipes away the tears he can feel trailing down his cheeks.

Derick was his soulmate.

\---

He doesn't tell anyone about falling in love with Milan in Paris, and how he almost didn't come back. He knows they would all tell him that a week isn't long enough to fall in love, and that he was just being overdramatic. And any other time, he would absolutely agree with them.

But something about Milan… something about them just felt…  _ right.  _ It felt like he was supposed to be there, with them, and holding their hand and dancing through the streets and eating ice cream at 10 am, just because it sounded like a good idea.

It's only been two days since he's been home, but already he wants to turn around and fly back. Doug's couch is much too small and he can't seem to find anywhere with authentic Italian pastries, but the familiar city streets and the noises he grew up with settle something inside him, and it's like coming home unlocked a space inside him he didn't know was closed off.

Doug assured him he doesn't mind Derick taking a couple weeks to find a place, but Derick doesn't know how long he and Doug can live together in such a cramped place without biting one another's heads off, so he begins looking for work and a place of his own immediately. But he realizes, in his search, that he's not exactly "day job" material. Apparently, he's intimidating??

Derick just doesn't understand.

It's on his way back to Doug's apartment one night that he sees it- an ad for the Lisvalleta City Bank. Not for a job, but for loans. 

Taking out a loan is risky business, but if he were able to get a big enough loan, he could start his own shop. Maybe… mechanic work? Nah, he had no idea how to fix a car. 

A bar? He  _ did _ always think bartenders looked cool. Especially the ones who could flip glasses and do tricks with the shakers. Maybe he could start up his own private detective business? He had experience, after all.

When he gets back to Doug's apartment, he pulls the playing dice out of one of Doug's board games and moves to the dining table. He inhales deeply, eyes closed, as the dice rattle in his cupped hands.

"Eight or higher, I'll become a private detective. Seven or lower…" he tosses the dice and opens his eyes.

Five.

\---

Derick whistles quietly to himself as he polishes the small glass in his hands. The bar is beautiful, if he does say so himself. 

It's not much, but it's his, and he's proud of it, from the neon signs to the shiny leather couches and the marble countertops; it's everything he'd ever dreamed of when he began imagining being a bar owner. 

Now if only customers would find their way into the shop, he muses. He's just lifting a box of glass bottles when his left forearm begins to tingle, and Derick smiles, knowing without having to look that his soulmate is drawing again. The constant notes and drawings had slowed considerably over the past few months, so Derick had been a little concerned, but every once in a while, something shows up, so he knows they're still alive. 

Maybe they've finally found a notebook that works for them?

He ignores the tingle while he unpacks the liquor bottles, then has a seat on a barstool as he rolls up his sleeve to take a look at what they're drawing today.

Since coming back from his trip, Derick hasn't been taking notes or pictures of anything his soulmate has done. He had forgotten his notebook in Paris, but that was for the best. He's started a new page in his life- one where his soulmate doesn't reign supreme. 

But he still likes to watch the drawings pop up on his skin when they draw. Their art is always beautiful and brings a smile to his face.

The drawing today makes Derick's eyebrows scrunch in confusion, though.

This building looks a lot like… 

He quickly rises from the bar stool and rushes to the front door. He throws it open and finds a familiar head of lilac hair sitting on his front steps. They look up when the door opens, a warm smile spreading over their face and Derick can see the pen hanging loosely from their right hand-

_ "Milan?" _ Derick breathes. Their smile falters and they push to their feet.

"My name isn't actually Milan…" they swallow, "I can't… there's a lot I really can't tell you right now, about myself but… but if you'll have me-"

"I don't care," Derick is already pulling them into his arms. "I'll have you any way you'll let me."

Their arms wrap tightly around Derick's shoulders and Derick feels like he's on cloud nine. Absolutely nothing could be better than this.

\---

Finding out that Milan- no,  _ Milla, _ was Kirill's sister is a shock, but honestly, Derick should have seen the resemblance sooner. The crystal blue eyes, the silky lilac hair- it's pretty obvious, if you actually pay attention.

And in paying attention, Derick noticed something that made his breath catch.

"Milla, those earrings..?" 

"You finally noticed," Milla laughs softly, carefully stacking the whiskey glasses behind the bar. "They're my favorite pair." He murmurs, running his finger over the edge of his ear.

All Derick can think of the rest of the evening is how right he was back in Paris; those earrings looked perfect on Milla.

\---

Valery didn't mean for Kirill to find out that he and Derick were soul mates the way he did. 

He's just become so used to writing everything on his body that he doesn't even consider picking up a notepad anymore. So when he picks up a pen and writes MILK on the small list on his arm, he doesn't think twice about it. This way, either he'll pick it up after work, or maybe Derick will, because he's good about doing the shopping.

"Doesn't that bother your soulmate?" Valery looks up, to find Kirill watching him with a curious frown. "Your arms are always covered in ink- you used to write on yourself a lot when we were growing up too. Didn't they ever say anything about it?"

Valery opens his mouth and promptly closes it again. How does he answer that?

"Milla!" Derick calls from the kitchen, "You just wrote milk- do you mean whole milk, for the bar? Or the almond milk you like?"

Kirill stares at Valery wide eyed.

"The almond kind," Valery calls back, eyes never leaving Kirill's.

"And crackers? The buttery brand?" Kirill's eyes flick down to Valery's uncovered forearm and back up, even wider, if possible.

"Yes please." Valery smiles, amused.

"I'm going shopping!" Derick calls, and Valery hears the back door open and close.

"Wha- what- is Derick?? Was that-?? Are you-?!" Kirill stammers after a silent moment. 

"To answer your question," Valery begins, smile growing, "no. It doesn't bother my soulmate at all."

\---

Finding out that  _ Milla _ was actually  _ Valery _ was a little more shocking. For as surprised as Derick was, though, Kirill seems to be even more flabbergasted

"I just don't understand!" He cries, "You two are  _ soulmates!" _ He stresses. "How did you not know that in the six months you've been  _ working _ together? In the  _ lifetime _ you've been soulmates??"

"It just never came up," Derick mumbles sheepishly, face burning.

"But-!"

"Leave him alone," Valery's lips are quirked up in an amused smile of his own. "Derick is a gentleman. He'd never rush a lady."

"That's right!" Derick cries, "What kind of man would I be if I were to rush a lady into something like that??"

"But," Valery turns to face the older man, still smiling, "I'm not actually a lady… just for future reference." He winks and pats Derick's chest gently before leaving his side to go and help Max and Yuri load the rest of the suitcases onto the bus. 

Derick's face feels warm again.

Was that… was that an okay? Was Derick just given the okay to do more than hold Valery's hand??

"God, you disgust me," Deana clicks her tongue and Derick startles, not having heard her approach. "You're so fucking dense; if Valery was any more obvious, he'd be naked on the bar-"

"Deana-san!" Kay cries, cheeks pink, "That's highly inappropriate!!"

"I'm just telling him the truth!" She shouts. 

Derick is so embarrassed he wants to crawl into a hole, but when Valery looks up from his conversation with Max and smiles at him, that soft and warm smile that always makes Derick's heart race, Derick thinks maybe… maybe he could-

"I'm telling you," Deana continues, "Valery would be down for anything if Derick would just man up and say "Let's go fu-""

_ "Deana-san!" _


End file.
